Make it Work
by kazumigirl
Summary: Mary and Irene become pregnant at the same time, and the timing couldn't be worse. Watson and Holmes have discovered their love for each other as well as Mary and Irene. All of them want children.
1. Chapter 1

**Make It Work**

**For the sherlockkink meme prompt:**

_Mary and Irene become pregnant at the same time, and the timing couldn't be worse. Watson and Holmes have discovered their love for each other as well as Mary and Irene. All of them want crazy bohemian lifestyle. They all live together and decide to raise the kids. Take it and run!_**Author's note**: I took a different route. Just a bit. You'll see what I mean once you read. "Edwin!" Irene called, exhausted. "Edwin, come here!" She held the clothes in one hand, and pushed hair out of her eyes with the other.

The toddler giggled from a few feet away, and stomped his little feet.

Irene rolled her eyes. "Mama's not playing." She held up the clothes. "Come get dressed."

The little boy shook his head, his thumb going into his mouth. Irene opened her mouth to say something else, but Watson came up the stairs and little Edwin fell into another fit of giggles. The doctor glanced at the little naked toddler, and then the exasperated Irene. He walked over to Edwin and knelt down. "Are you giving Mama a hard time?"

Edwin laughed in response, slapping his hands against the air, daring Irene to chase him again. She didn't, and looked up at Watson. "He's a beast."

Holmes came up the stairs next, scanning a book of some kind, jabbering about case work. He stopped and looked between the trio. He stared at Edwin, who laughed even harder. He closed the book and handed it to Watson. Irene smiled, amusement written all over her face. Holmes squatted down a good few feet away from Edwin and stared at him. Without any warning, he clapped and said loudly, "Get dressed, Sir. Right now. This instance."

Edwin giggled again and ran towards his mother on his stubby little bow legs. He ran into her arms and she kissed the mop of unruly, milk chocolate hair. She smiled at Sherlock, but her smile fell slightly when his hand found Watson's-their fingers knitting together. She looked away, pulling Edwin closer to her.

"Where are you off to?" Watson asked her. "Mary mentioned something..." he waved his hand in a lazy semi-circle fashion.

"Shoe shopping," Irene said. "Edwin's almost outgrown his shoes."

"Already?" Holmes' brows furrowed. "We just bought him shoes-" he glanced at Watson. "When was it...?"

"A month ago?" The doctor shrugged one shoulder. He looked at Irene. "Would you like some money?"

"No." Irene smiled at them briefly, and then shook her head. "No, thank you." She patted the seat of Edwin's pants, prodding him to get a move on. "Come on. Mommy's waiting."

"Are you taking Clara with you?" Watson asked, opening his arms as Edwin rushed over to him. He picked him up.

"Do you want her?" Irene stood back up.

Holmes and Watson looked at each other. "We can keep her," Holmes told Irene, looking at Watson. He took Edwin from Watson. "And you behave yourself."

Edwin nodded and puckered out his lips. Holmes kissed him. Edwin turned his little head and leaned towards Watson. The doctor kissed him too. Irene smiled and approached them. She held out her arms and Edwin went back to her. He waved to his fathers. "Go-bye," he said.

"Good bye," Holmes said. "Be good."

Mary came up the stairs next. "There you are," she said, looking at Watson. "Did Irene tell you? We're heading out soon." She bounced a little girl just a tad bigger than Edwin in her arms. "Edwin needs shoes."

"We told Irene we can keep Clara," Holmes told her. He smiled at the little girl who smiled back and held out her arms for him. Unlike Edwin who had dark eyes and brown hair, Clara had blue eyes and sandy blonde hair.

"Hello, Love," Watson said as Holmes took her in his arms. The doctor leaned over and kissed her. "How's our darling girl?"

"Am I going shoe shopping?" Clara asked in a tiny, high-pitched tone. They often joked about her sounding like a little mouse.

"You're going to stay with Daddy and Papa," Mary told her.

Clara leaned her head on Holmes' shoulder, smiling at Watson who brushed some hair away from her face. This seemed to make Edwin jealous and he began to whine and squirm. Mary took him from Irene. "You'll see Daddy and Papa when we come back, alright?"

"Tell your sister good bye," Mary told him. "Tell her good bye."

"Go-bye." Edwin waved to Clara.

"Good bye," Clara squeaked back, also waving. She blew him a kiss.

"Blow her a kiss," Mary instructed the little boy. "Look, she's blowing you kisses."

Edwin blew her a kiss, and then made a rasberry sound, spitting on the floor. He laughed when the two women rolled their eyes and made faces. Holmes and Watson laughed, and Clara laughed too. She pointed. "Edwin funny."

-------

_"And you're sure?" Mary asked, sniffling once more. "You're sure...that..." she wiped at her eyes. "That you're...in love...with him?"_

_Watson nodded slowly, looking away. "I'm so sorry, Mary."_

_"Well, you should be." His wife looked up at him. Her hand rested on her midsection through her dress. "I visited my doctor this morning." She smiled as more tears streamed down her face. "I'm with child."_

_Across town, Irene sat naked on the bed, staring angrily out the window. She snorted. "I knew it."_

_"I'm sorry," Holmes said quietly, awkwardly scratching his head. "I never meant to hurt you."_

_"I don't fall in love," Irene told him, a disgusted expression crossing her face. "What we do-" she gestured between them- "Is..." she rolled her eyes. "You know, I'll just tell you." She stood up, gathering her clothes. "I'm pregnant."_

_--------_

"I wonder why Clara is talking so much better than Eddie," Mary mused as she and Irene climbed into the carriage. "They're only two months apart."

"Well, Edwin was premature," Irene reminded her, smiling down at the little boy. "He wasn't supposed to be born until July-four months after Clara." She kissed the top of his head. "It's amazing he's alive at all."

"He has his mother's spirit," Mary joked. Her smile faded and she looked away. "You still love him."

Irene looked at her. "No, I don't."

"Yes, you do." Mary sighed, her gaze still averted. "You're not being fair to yourself."

"I'm not doing this for myself," Irene told her. "I'm doing it for our children." She laughed. "There are children on the streets because nobody wanted them and ours are lucky enough to have _everyone_ want them." She laughed a little, leaning back against the seat. "It's just hard...watching the father of your child kiss somebody who isn't you."

Mary smiled sadly, and patted her lap. "Come here, Eddie."

Edwin climbed into her lap. He toyed with necklace. Occassionally, he glanced up at Irene, smiling. "Mama."

"Mama's right here," Irene said quietly, touching his nose with her finger. She smiled at Mary. "So is Mommy."

--------

"Watson?" Holmes glanced at the doctor as they worked side by side, trying to piece together a shredded document. Clara sat on the tabletop between them, staring at the tattered bits. "You don't think..." he cleared his throat and shook his head. "Nevermind."

"What?" Watson hardly looked up, concentrating hard on the pieces.

"Clara speaks so eloquently and with such precision," the detective said. "And Edwin...he..." he stopped, a guilty expression crossing his face.

"Edwin was premature," Watson said, finally glancing at him. "It's amazing he even survived." He patted the other man's shoulder. "And he'll catch up-I know he will." He leaned forward and pecked him on the lips.

-------

_"I can't leave Mary," Watson sighed, closing his eyes. "Not when she's like this."_

_"Irene too," Holmes said, running his index finger along Watson's cheek._

_"Irene too?" Watson turned his head to face the other man. "Irene is pregnant?"_

_Holmes nodded. "We're all about to be parents." He chuckled to himself, though nothing was particularly funny about the situation._

_Watson snorted too, shaking his head, and then they both started laughing. When they settled down, Holmes let out a final chuckle and rolled over to kiss the doctor. _

_"I just wish there was some way around all of it," Watson said, staring up at the ceiling. "I mean, I want children. I always have." He stared at Holmes, who was busy kissing his collarbone. "Do you?"_

_"Children?" Holmes stopped briefly. "Why not?" He went back to work. _

_Watson stopped him. "Maybe there's a way we can make this work," he said quietly. _

_---------_

Dinner was always a busy time of the day. The adults took turns cooking, two in the kitchen and two entertaining the children. Tonight was Watson and Irene's turn to prepare supper, and Holmes and Mary's turn to take care of Edwin and Clara.

" 'And the prince climbed up the princess' long braided hair'," Mary read from a storybook. She turned it so the two-year olds could see the picture. "Do you see the prince?" She sighed. "Edwin, pay attention, Love."

"Where's Papa?" Edwin looked around. "Where's Mama?"

"Cooking," Clara replied-her 'ooh' sound more exaggerated than a normal child's. The parents found it endearing.

"That's right, Clara," her mother said. "Now, let's finish the story."

"Stoorie." Clara smiled. She climbed into Mary's lap. "Preencess-" she pointed. "Hair."

"That's right." Mary kissed her.

"No stowy." Edwin made a face and shook his head. "No stowy."

In the kitchen, Watson and Irene quickly worked together to prepare the evening meal. Watson could sense hostility from the woman. He'd felt it before, but only in come-and-go senses. He'd always wondered, but never asked.

"Find Edwin a decent pair of shoes?" He asked carefully.

"Yes." Irene smiled at him. "Though I'm sure he'll grow out of them by tomorrow." She looked away. "How was Clara?"

"Typical Clara." The doctor shrugged. "The sky's the limit to her chatter."

"At least she talks," Irene said. She caught her own bitterness. "Not that Edwin doesn't..." she sighed. "She's so much smarter than he is."

Watson set a bowl down . "That's not true-"

"I did cocaine while I was pregnant," Irene hissed, slamming a large stirring spoon down. Tears filled her eyes and she looked away. "For somebody who's so close to Sherlock, it's a wonder he didn't tell you."

Watson didn't say anything for a moment. He shook his head slightly. "Needle drugs?"

"Sherlock and I used to do them together," Irene said, wiping at her eyes. "Even while I was pregnant." She began to cry. "And my baby is paying for it."

Watson still had a look on his face like something wasn't quite right. "He knew you were pregnant?"

"No." She wiped at her eyes again. "I didn't either. I stopped when I found out." She tucked some hair behind her ear awkwardly. "I, um, I showed no signs. My doctor said it was rare, but sometimes women..." she began to cry again. "I saw two children today with their parents-twins- and they both acted like Clara. They were talking, and singing, and they didn't run bow-legged!" She spit the last words out.

"Edwin is fine," Watson informed her. "He's healthy, he's smart, he talks..." he sighed. "Why didn't you tell Holmes?"

"They're probably getting hungry," Irene said, sniffling for the last time. She turned her attention back to the stove.

---------

"Daddy!" Edwin whined, trudging down the hall with his quilt-well, Mary's quilt. He'd just attached himself to it since he could crawl. "Daddy!"

"What's wrong, Son?" Holmes emerged from his room, looking around. "Why aren't you in bed?" He picked him up, kissing him a few times.

Edwin pointed to his room. Holmes rolled his eyes. "You can't sleep with Papa and me every night."

Edwin nodded. Holmes shook his head. Edwin leaned against him. Holmes sighed and carried him into the room, closing the door with his foot. From the bed, Watson looked up from his patient notes and smiled. Holmes rolled his eyes and set the toddler on the bed.

"Hello there," the doctor told the little boy.

Edwin snuggled against him, his thumb in his mouth. Watson removed the thumb. "No, we don't do that anymore." He winced slightly at the large callous on the little digit.

"I used to do the same," Holmes muttered, climbing into bed. "My mother coated mine in ear wax to make me stop."

"You're not going to do that to Edwin," Watson said, frowning.

"Of course not." Holmes looked at him. "It's vile...and strange..."

Watson looked at the little boy, and thought of what Irene had said. He opened his mouth to say something, but said nothing.

---------

To Be Continued....


	2. Chapter 2

**Make It Work: Chapter 2**

_Mary shook her head slightly, squinting her eyes skeptically as her husband spoke. Her fingers delicately traced patterns through the fabric of her dress, stopping just at the indention of her navel. She spread ouf her fingers and rested her palm there._

_"We can make it work, Mary," Watson said quietly. _

_"It's unorthidox," his wife replied, almost laughing. "It's mad, John. People don't do that."_

_The doctor licked his lips, looking away. He leaned against the wall, and ran a hand through his short hair. Mary looked away too. For several minutes, neither of them said anything._

_"You've always loved him," Mary finally said, smiling sadly. "It's my fault."_

_"It's not your fault-" Watson started, but Mary raised her hand. _

_"Yes it is," she said sternly. "I silenced this persistant little voice in my mind that told me to leave you." She began to laugh. "I already knew you had feelings for him..." she sighed. "I just thought I could change you."_

_"It wasn't your fault," Watson tried again._

_"You can't change a person," Mary said. She closed the short distance between them, pressing her lips to his. He kissed her back, but it was not the kiss they were used to. _

_-----_

_"You knew!" Holmes barked, snapping his shirt before he put it on. "You can't tell me you didn't know!"_

_Irene, sitting cross-legged on his bed, scowled into space. She hardly moved as the man moved beside her to button his shirt. He sighed stiffly, glancing at her. "Watson came up with a suggestion," he said._

_"Oh, wonderful," Irene scoffed, standing up. "You want my child as well?"_

_" OUR child," Holmes corrected her. "Mary's..." he scratched his head awkwardly. "Mary's pregnant too."_

_Irene laughed, staring up at the ceiling. "This is ridiculous." She covered her face, shaking her head. "This is absolutely ridiculous."_

_"I told you I loved him before we..." Holmes sighed, leaning back on his palms._

_"I'M NOT IN LOVE WITH YOU!" Irene screamed, picking up her dress hat and hurling it at him. "I am...DISEASED by you! POISONED!" She placed her hand to her stomach. "You think I wanted this child?"_

_"You don't?" Holmes stared at her skeptically._

_Irene took a deep breath and released it slowly. "I'm sorry...I'm being rash..." she sat down beside him. "I do want it." She took his hand in hers. "It's our child." She looked around. "So is the doctor going to believe we're still at it?"_

_"I told him you needed a place to stay," Holmes said. _

_Irene smiled sweetly. "I guess it's not so bad," she said quietly. "I mean, you're the only man I can stay with and not expect something in return."_

_"Mm." Holmes kissed her cheek. _

_"So what was his suggestion?" Irene looked at him._

-------"Oh, John!" Mary gasped, removing the groceries from their parcels. "Where did you find this?" She held up a ripe pineapple.

"I want to touch it!" Clara demanded, leaning across the table.

"Clara," Irene said, patting the seat of her dress. "Our feet go on the floor, Darling."

"Okay, Mama," Clara said, making no effort to move.

"Sit down, Darling." Irene prodded her again.

Edwin watched, and climbed into another chair. He laughed as he stood up, his hands gripping the tabletop. He looked at Clara and laughed again. Clara laughed too.

"Both of you, sit down," Irene told them.

"Wee!" Clara fell to her bottom.

"Wee-Ahh!" Edwin tried to do the same, but toppled right out of the chair. His head hit one of the chair legs with a loud thud. He began to wail.

"Oh!" Watson scooped him up. "Let Papa see."

Mary went to his side, also examining the damage. Edwin reached for her, and Watson obdiently passed him to her. Little Clara began to cry too. Irene picked her up.

"Edwin's alright," she told the little girl. "But that's why we don't stand up in the chair."

"Here, Irene," Mary chuckled. "Let's trade." She started to pass Edwin over, and Irene did the same, but both children clung to the opposite mothers like glue.

"Clara, don't you want to see Mommy?" Irene asked.

"Edwin, look," Mary said. "There's Mama."

Edwin only wailed in reply and tried to bury himself deeper into her dress. Clara wrapped her little legs around Irene, sniffling. Watson and Holmes watched the scene-both amusement and confusion crossing their faces. Mary and Irene looked at each other.

"You don't think..." Mary said quietly, rubbing Edwin's back.

"No." Irene shook her head. "They have to..."

------

"That's ridiculous," Watson sighed, rolling his eyes. He moved about the room, collecting various documents.

"John," Mary said, hot on his heels. "The children are confused. They don't know who their parents are."

"What makes you think that?" The doctor asked, still pretending to busy himself in his work.

"I witnessed it this afternoon!" Mary said, her voice raising, very rare for her. "Edwin is not aware that Irene is his mother and Clara is not aware that I am hers." She chuckled a little, though nothing was funny. "They call us Mommy and Mama..." she grew quiet. "For God's sake, John."

Watson stopped, throwing all of the papers back on the floor. "I thought was the plan? For the four of us to raise them."

"How can you watch your own child call somebody else 'Daddy'?" Mary asked, shaking her head. Before the man could answer, she left the room.

------

"Mommy?" Clara, who had been toddling down the hallway, stopped when she saw her mother's bedroom door slightly ajar. She pushed it open.

"Oh." Mary sniffed and quickly wiped at her eyes. "Hello, Darling." She held out her arms. Clara ran into them.

Mary held her, kissing the mop of dark blonde hair. Clara raised her head from her dress. "You're crying?"

"No, Love." Mary smiled, and kissed her again. "Mommy's not crying." She stroked her hair. "It's your bath time, isn't it?"

Clara smiled sheepishly, and as if on cue, Holmes stopped at the doorway. "There you are!"

"No, Daddy!" Clara latched onto Mary. "No bath!"

"Edwin's waiting in the tub," Holmes informed her. "You don't want to make him take a bath all by himself." He looked at Mary. "Have you seen the bump on his head?"

"No, but I certainly heard it when it happened," she replied, smiling. She set Clara down on the floor. "Go and get washed up."

The little girl toddled towards the detective and raised her arms. "Up."

Holmes complied, picking her up. He bounced her slightly, and frowned thoughtfully at Mary. "Something wrong?"

"No." Mary stood up. "No, nothing. Why?"

Holmes said nothing, only smiled awkwardly. He took Clara and left the room. He went to the washroom where Irene was kneeling over the tub, scrubbing Edwin's hair. She looked up at Holmes and Clara.

"Mama!" Clara giggled, squirming in the detective's arms. He released her and knelt down to undress her.

"Something troubles you and Mary," Holmes said, unbuttoning the little girl's dress and slipping it over her head.

Edwin slapped the surface of the water and it splashed onto Irene's face. She wiped wet hair from her forehead and cheek. Without looking at Holmes, she replied, "Take your pick."

"Bath time," Clara squeaked, peeking over the edge of the tub. Irene lifted her up and over the side.

"Do you really think it's fair to split up the children because you don't like seeing us together?" Holmes murmered, sliding down the far wall into a sitting position, his knees drawn-up.

Irene took a metal cup and dipped it into the water, and then gently poured it over Clara's hair. She was very careful not to get any water on her face. Edwin made a face and began to whine, so Irene did the same to him. He then dunked himself under water and came up sputtering and laughing. Holmes smiled at him.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Irene sighed. "And it still is, on some levels..." she began to wash Clara's hair. "but you know me well enough to know that I do not like to share."

Clara suddenly began to wail and the adults looked at her. Holmes moved across the short distance from the wall to the tub on his knees. Clara sobbed as she held up her arm. It was pink and swollen with several patterned indentions.

"He bit her again?" Irene sounded exasperated. She showed Clara's arm to Edwin. "No, Sir! We do not bite!"

"No! No!" Edwin shook a finger at Clara.

Irene threw her arms up helplessly. "He doesn't even understand he did anything wrong."

Clara frowned at Edwin. "No, Sir! Edwin!" She shook her own finger at him.

Edwin slapped her. Clara began to cry again and Holmes took his arm and dragged across the tub. Edwin used his free hand to slap the air. He continued to say, "No! No!"

Irene placed her elbows on the tub's edge and buried her face in her hands. When she looked up again, her eyes were glossy, but she was not crying. Holmes watched her silently as she continued to bathe the little girl. Without a word he took a nearby cloth and began to bathe Edwin.

"Sounds like monkeys battling," Watson said, entering the washroom. "What's going on?"

"Edwin bit Clara," Irene said flatly.

"Again?" Watson shook his finger at Edwin. "No, no, Eddie. That's naughty. That's very naughty."

"Noddy," Clara repeated, smiling up at him.

"Hello, Princess." Watson squeezed in between Holmes and Irene and kissed the toddler's wet cheek. She giggled as he kissed her again and again, making playful growling noises.

Edwin whined loudly and tried to make his way over to the affection, but Holmes kept him still, scrubbing his hair. Watson scooted closer to the detective and did the same to the little boy.

-------

"What's your name?" Watson asked, Clara in his lap. Mary sat beside him, smiling

"Clara Wuth Watson," the little girl said grinning.

"Clara Ruth Watson," Mary repeated. "Good job." She leaned over and kissed her. "Good job."

"What's my name?" Watson pointed to a finger to his chest.

"Papa!" Clara exclaimed.

"He is your Papa," Mary said. "But what is Papa's name?"

Clara hemmed and hawed. "John Watson."

"Oh, my goodness!" Mary laughed, and so did the doctor. "What is my name? What's Mommy's name?"

"Marwy Watson."

"Mary Watson, good!" Mary took her from Watson and pulled her into a hug. "You're so smart!" She kissed her. "Such a smart young lady!"

--------

"Edwin, Sweetheart, stop." Irene pulled the jumping toddler into a sitting position on the bed. "Edwin, stop bouncing. We don't bounce on the bed."

She went back to trying to comb her hair. Edwin began to roll around, taking the blankets with him. Irene sighed. "Edwin!"

A knock sounded at the door and Holmes entered the room. Edwin sat up and grinned. "Daddy!" He waved his blanket.

Holmes picked him up and tossed him in the air a few times before suddenly ducking him down and smothering him in growls and kisses. Edwin squealed with laughter. Irene smiled at the pair.

"Did you know Clara knows her full name?" He asked. "Watson allowed her to demonstrate for me just now."

"Mm." Irene went back to combing her hair. She looked at Edwin. "Edwin, what's your name?"

Edwin tucked his thumb in his mouth. Holmes poked his cheek with his index finger. "Your name is Edwin Sherlock Holmes."

"Daddy." Edwin poked his father's cheek with his finger.

"It's my fault he's like this," Irene sighed. "I'm surprised John hasn't told you yet."

"Told me what?" Holmes hardly paid attention, making silly faces at Edwin, who smiled and giggled.

"We did cocaine together," Irene reminded him. "Don't you remember?"

Holmes turned to her so fast he nearly risked whiplash. "You were pregnant?"

"I didn't know at the time." Irene stood up. "I still had my cycle, I never threw up once..." she ran a hand through her hair, blinking furiously. "The second I found out, I quit."

A million expressions crossed Holmes' face in a matter of seconds, but they were all in his eyes. He looked at Edwin, studying him. Edwin puckered his lips like a little duck bill for a kiss. Holmes kissed him, and then pulled him against his chest.

"I think that's why he was premature," Irene said shakily. She wiped at her eyes.

"He's fine," Holmes said quietly. "He's fine."

"No, he's not!" Irene began to cry. "He's hardly toilet-trained! He can't walk or run without tripping! He doesn't even know who his Goddamn parents are!"

"Irene!" Holmes snapped, but not loudly, just forcefully.

"It's true!" Irene said, lowering her tone. "You know it's true! And you know what else-" she pointed her finger at him, as if it held her words like an imaginary gun. "It's all your fault."

Holmes didn't say anything. He just stared at her.

Irene continued. "You were in love with Watson, but you _let_ me in anyway. You shared a bed with me, and I stuck _your_ needles in my body because I was so desperate to be with you. To change your mind."

"How can you say all of this about him?" The detective asked, shaking his head slightly. "He's right here."

Irene looked at Edwin, whose back was turned to her because Holmes was cradling him against his shoulder. Irene noted his little hand, his fingers gripping the fabric of Holmes' shirt, his little knuckles white. She began to cry even harder and took him from Holmes. Tears were streaming down his face.

"Oh, no, Darling..." she sobbed as she kissed him. "Mama is sorry. Mama didn't mean any of that." She kissed him over and over, moving to sit on the bed. "I love you. I love you so much." She looked up at Holmes. "I don't what's come over me lately."

"I think you do," Holmes said quietly. "Give me my son."

"Our son." Irene held onto him more tightly.

Holmes licked his lips as he sighed. "Edwin."

Edwin didn't raise his head from Irene's chest. A knock sounded at the door and Mary opened it a crack before taking a quick peek inside. She opened it all the way. Clara was in her arms. She saw the expressions on their faces and the tears on Irene's.

"What's the matter?" She asked, looking between them.

"Mama's crying." Clara pointed.

"Irene, what's wrong?" Mary asked. "Here, give me Edwin."

Reluctantly, Irene passed him over. Holmes took Clara so Mary was not weighed down by the toddlers. She looked at him and he looked away.

----------

**Author's note:** Okay, I know Irene is so very out of character, but every adult is going to go through their own little angst-phase, so just fair warning for future chapters.


End file.
